The freaks.
This was what the islanders simply called House Sciacca, for all that they were the highest-ranking of the three noble houses, a Barony. But they were freaks whose dilapidated mansion was pretty much the only inhabited structure in the Southern part of the island, where the wilderness grew rampant and inhospitable and few willingly ventured. The very air felt different, unpleasant, metallic as soon as one went past Mount Tuli. It was no wonder that only the Sciaccas lived there, sharing their half of the island with the pirates that used its secretive coves for smuggling and as hideouts when on the run from the Navy.
The pirates were, ostensibly, the source of Sciacca business. They traded with the privateers, selling the products of the strange and forbidden arts they practiced - and it was said that no dark craft existed in the world that the Sciacca had not mastered for their profit. In turn, they acquired money, food and raw materials from the pirates, for few in Port Chelseanna were willing to do business with them. Oh, one of them visited occasionally, perhaps twice an era. Rodolfo Sciacca, they thought his name was. The left leg a good foot longer than the right, if not more. They could hear him come from the way he dragged his foot along. Not to mention the horn.
And they all knew that the Sciaccas sent him because he was the most normal-looking of them all.
Some shopkeepers were intimidated into trading with him. Like all Sciaccas, he was rumored to be able to give the evil eye, casting hexes with a single look. For the rest, the town pretty much barricaded in their homes when he came. The nature of their condition had attracted the attention of the local Kalendryan scholars, who were constantly trying to understand what had transformed them into freaks.
Few ever dared to stand in front of House Sciacca. Situated near the Southern shores and completely surrounded by wild vegetation, the villa was imposing, by far the largest noble mansion on the island. It was three stories high, with two different wings. At one time, it had contained over two hundred people, nobles and servants. No-one knew how many Sciaccas were left now. Plants had invaded the run-down building, branches coming in and out of several windows, the roof collapsed in several points, many cracks in the walls and moss growing in patches. The iron gate now lay on the ground, almost buried under a blanked of plants and dirt. The grounds were freely accessible and the house looked uninhabited, yet the creepy feeling that exuded from the walls told a different story.
NPCs:
Linear Mode
